


Buzzing like NATs

by nonky



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Unfortunately, Jane Doe was a visible difference in the office, and her interactions with Weller were particularly engrossing. This year the New Agents in Training were evenly split between debating getting Jane to leave her abusive relationship with Weller, and gawking at the two of them like they had unlocked a law enforcement super partnership.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to borrow some Quantico characters for our NATs, but that show's New York seems to be a bit too incendiary for a light and silly piece like this. Ultimately, it was quicker and felt more tasteful to just make up my own four trainees to be amazed and baffled by Kurt and Jane. Not to be taken too seriously, and the NATs are open for loans to other fics if you feel you want them. Edited to add last few paragraphs that decided not to paste.

Weller's office door opened and Brianna walked away with a stack of files. Weller had voluntarily signed paperwork during his lunch break, almost happily. Jane had pulled a chair behind his desk and proclaimed herself his page turner. The smiles and light mood were almost surreal. 

Kurt Weller's whole day was made by the presence of Jane Doe, and they had nearly made a sophisticated security agency their living room. Her brother was even living in the closest thing they had to a basement rec room.

Edgar Reade turned to his partner with a sigh, "Is it awful I want Jane to be mad at him right now? I'm tired of trying to explain Weller isn't completely unprofessional, he's just psychologically married to his consultant." 

Tasha Zapata shrugged, pushing her loose waves behind her ear when her hair settled over one eye. "It's not great of you, but I would love if they could not be talking for the rest of the week. I mean, he'd be suicidal by Wednesday, but I'm running out of plausible denials."

He pulled open the desk drawer of teabags, searching for one that was soothing but caffeinated. "It would really help if they could stop having arguments in the break room about what takeout they're ordering for dinner that night."

Jane had relocated to the table, taking Weller with her for a cozy meal. Zapata sometimes worried she was going to have to remind her boss his office had glass walls. She also wondered if she should have a quiet conversation with Jane about birth control and relationship balancing. 

"The whole thing where she had new keys made and brought him in his set was too adorable. He acted like she'd brought him a dozen roses. He stopped making his coffee to change over his keyring like she was going to snatch them back unless he was appropriately grateful," she said fondly.

Weller had commented on the new keys being refreshing like a clean shave, a clumsy compliment for a weird and unexpected gift. They were oddly bashful about some normal interactions, and other times very open with nearly domestic conversations. It was hard to say if it was a genius method of camouflage or the world's worst office romance coverup.

Even knowing logically it wasn't as close as it seemed - the chemistry was too mercurial for that - Kurt and Jane's interactions were always undercut with a personal level of meaning.

"They're worried Roman needs to have some kind of leisure. Jane was thinking guitar lessons but most musical instruments aren't allowed in the cell," Reade said, shaking his head.

"That day she followed him to the elevator to straighten his tie?"

Edgar and Tasha both shook their heads. That day had felt like Weller deciding he wasn't going to conceal a damn thing. Since then it had been full time Jane appreciation and loving gazes.

"I think Pellington has given up. As long as he gets his RSVP to the wedding he's just going to pretend basic courtesy includes 45 second hugs from your boss," Reade said.

"Those are just getting so lingering. I thought that day Jane wore red lipstick Weller was going to pin her to the conference table."

Reade had found his teabag, and took that moment to walk off to make a fresh cup. He really didn't know what to say to the prospect of what Weller might do to Jane on the office furniture. 

"I'm sincerely worried Pellington is going to start carrying a spray bottle with water and dousing them," he said, finding a safe place for his tea upon his return.

Tasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not even sure they'd notice right away, or they'd just assume one of them had drooled. It's like a damn fugue state, and they just float in the bubble until somebody interrupts them."

They would have Weller's back, and they made sure to loudly greet Pellington once they saw him coming. Eventually that early warning system was going to miss, and Pellington's ability to remain in denial would force him to react.

"They talked about baby names for twenty minutes, and they both had suggestions and opinions," he said, frowning into his boss' office. "It's kind of heart-breaking Weller somehow has a baby mama across the country and he's sucked Jane into being excited for him. It was bad enough he was in a tough spot with it."

"They're a nightmare. There is no explanation for them." Tasha had very little hope anything was going to change, other than Weller somehow finding a way to convince Jane to marry him to facilitate her protection. She'd take Jane to look at naked dudes for her bachelorette party, and put on a dress to witness the ceremony. She didn't think it would really create any less drama to have them hitched and proper. 

"Weller found Jane about to take a selfie with one of the trainees, and lost his mind about security risks. Now they all flinch when their phones vibrate and they're not sure if they're allowed to answer them. They hide in the bathroom to text," Edgar sneered. 

Once a year, shiny new agents about to hatch from their Quantico sweats into their FBI business casual spent a week in the New York Office. 

They weren't interns or gofers, and the work experience was meant to be demanding and representative of the workload of the office. They weren't to be wasted on coffee runs or filing. They handled real cases and had responsibilities. If they failed, they slowed down a case. If they succeeded, they did their part to crack it. 

Jane Doe's tattoos were deemed too sensitive to allow fresh eyes to see and then go back out into the larger umbrella of all the FBI offices. The puzzles often pointed too close to home.

The new agents in training were bright and focused, two matched sets of male-female partnerships. NAT Karen Olberman was an idealist, and her degree in psychology was offset by a romantic nature not shared by her male counterpart. NAT Brian Kincaid was probably a good foil for her, seasoned as he was by a tour in Afghanistan with the Marines. He'd earned a masters in languages and used it to get a spot in the FBI. 

NAT Tyrone Harrison had come up from law enforcement, working his way through seminars and correspondence courses until his qualifications came off almost too based in logic. It was only when he spoke about books it became clear he was the romantic of his duo. NAT Nadia Cordova came from a pragmatic family of recent immigrants, and her patriotism was matched by an iron-spined adherence to rules that let her excel in a PhD. in Mathematics. 

All four dedicated, educated young agents had no idea what to make of Weller and Jane, and the uncertainty was slowly killing them.

Mayfair had been legendary at taking the newbies, showing them the ropes and making them useful. Her talent for mentoring skills had given her first pick of the batch when job openings needed to be filled. She would have known what to do to polish up the new recruits, giving them tasks that suited their talents and pushed them to be just a little past comfort levels. There had been chatter about not bothering the NYO with NATs that year, in consideration for the new Assistant Director.

While it sounded like a nice offer, it was really a mark of weakness for a field office. Pellington had insisted Weller be treated just the same as his experienced counterparts.

Weller was in charge of everything and still trying to do fieldwork, Nas wasn't FBI, Jane did a million things but had no official title to give orders, and Patterson had her own lab where she could disappear for important analysis. The annual shipment of young, nervous, clueless trainees fell under Reade and Zapata's loose supervision. It was a compromise with Pellington to keep everything running as normal, and expectations equal to previous years. There was a rotation of shifts in various departments, but Tasha and Edgar were the ones to wrangle their new recruits.

Unfortunately, Jane Doe was a visible difference in the office, and her interactions with Weller were particularly engrossing. This year the NATs were evenly split between debating getting Jane to leave her abusive relationship with Weller, and gawking at the two of them like they had unlocked a law enforcement super partnership. 

Their flock of wide-eyed protegees returned from a morning in the forensic accounting department, probably starved for anything that wasn't a column of numbers. They glanced at Weller's office, noted the sedate lunch going on, and gathered to report back to Reade and Zapata.

"So, do they live together?" Harrison was usually the first to venture quiet guesses. He wanted the whole thing to be an FBI version of Jane Austen. 

"No, Jane has her house and Weller has an apartment. They've never lived together," Zapata said evenly. 

All the NATs seemed to respond to that, getting confused again. "But they have a kid together. It's a weird name, Russell or - Roman? Is that right," Cordova said. 

It was worrying the least imaginative of the four had mistaken that situation so badly a dangerous amnesiac terrorist seemed like Jane and Weller's child. They'd never met him, though, and there was a bit of debate about getting him a piano tutor.

"Guys, you're mixing it all up. Roman is Jane's brother. He's suffering from memory loss. Weller is helping her try to help her brother," Reade said. "They're friends outside of work. That's pretty normal. You guys must hang out with some of the other trainees."

"We're not judging," Olberman said earnestly. "If you meet someone at work, that's just how it happened. It doesn't seem very peaceful."

"It's a stressful job, and Jane is a consultant on her own case. It's unusual with a lot of overlap between personal stuff and raids," Zapata said, doing her best to make it sound routine.

"Raids on what?" Cordova wasn't very invested in Jane Doe's romantic travails, but she liked the idea of fieldwork. All of them were like puppies on hind legs, bouncing with it. 

Reade supposed not many cases down in accounting ended in raids. "I can't tell you that until it's part of your work. And I know I can safely speak for Weller that he doesn't appreciate anyone prying into Jane's privacy."

"He yells at her a lot and she seems to, like, let it happen," Olberman said meekly.

"He held the door shut when she was trying to leave and kept yelling after she'd stopped talking," her partner, Kincaid backed her up. He was correct to support his partner but misguided. He was also the one who had suggested maybe Jane should just not be with Weller at all.

Zapata knew if Jane exhaled too quickly, Weller would have fallen over himself apologizing and petting her until she smiled and forgave him. That was not the answer to give to this little group of superfans and critics.

"Okay, you guys are imagining this whole dramatic world where everyone is secretly in love with someone in the office and there's a bad guy. Weller and Jane have intense conversations. She can handle herself. He wouldn't hurt her. He's a big guy with a big voice, and I guess that can look like an argument."

"I saw them spar for a bit one day, and she can fight," Harrison said. "I know it wasn't a real fight, but I wouldn't have been able to bet on either one of them as a clear winner."

Reade took a sip of his tea, mentally sorting out ways to tell them to leave it alone without being mean. It was incomprehensible and shouldn't be happening in his workplace, but that's where it had started and the only thing worse than Weller with Jane was Weller missing Jane. Jane, who had finished lunch, and was looking radiantly happy as she approached with quick steps.

"Incoming," he said, tipping his chin to point with a fake sip of tea to cover.

Jane walked past the group to her desk. She gathered up her coat and belongings, smiling briefly as she stood up and found all of them looking. 

"Hi. Are you guys learning a lot," she asked nicely.

The mumbles that followed were a garbled chorus of agreement. Zapata flounced into her chair and Reade took a long, long sip of tea. 

"Good," Jane said. "Listen to these guys and you'll do great. Weller and I are out for an hour or so for that appointment with the therapist, and she has a phones off rule. The receptionist said to call their office line if you need us urgently."

She handed a card for a marriage and family counselor to him, and Reade sighed because he knew all four sets of sharp NAT eyes had seen it. He was starting to feel like the trainees were assuming he was lying to them. 

"We'll manage," Zapata said drily. She tucked the card away, and hid a smile. 

Jane had caught on to something in the shifty group. She looked around and at Edgar. "Did I interrupt office gossip?"

"Nah, just telling them the dumb little things you don't know until you screw it up once. Like what to do if you forget your badge at home and you're already late for work, or how you figure out which department head to report to when your own supervisor is out." Or how you ignore your boss eye-fucking the victim of a case for months while her eyes shine at him like he's literally the only man on Earth.

Nodding, the dark-haired woman fixed her collar and took the comment at face value. "I always just go to Weller," she said. "I guess we can't all do that."

If everyone let themselves into Kurt Weller's office as easily as Jane did, he wouldn't spend a single moment in there alone. The whole of the force of the FBI would be jammed in there, and someone would be trampled. Zapata had yet to see him do anything except be delighted to see Jane. It wouldn't have taken more than a minute to discuss protocols and set her up with a supervisor who was a bit more appropriate as her professional mentor. The idea of that tiny, perfunctory separation would be like suggesting Weller transfer her to a field office in Hawaii. 

The liebstod would be delicious, she admitted to herself. Weller might actually cry if forced to transfer Jane anywhere. And Jane would just pack a bag, calmly go, then smuggle herself back and hide expertly. Weller could likely find a little space on his mattress for her.

"See you later." Jane was gone, off to marriage counseling or whatever with their boss while they stayed behind to face four pouty agents convinced they were being hazed in some spectacular fashion. 

They watched Jane openly as she crossed to the elevators, meeting Weller with a little grin and a playful study of his jaw.

"Hah, if I am it's your fault," Kurt said, rather loudly. The next words were quieter, but accompanied by Jane running the pad of her thumb over some of his beard. 

Her voice didn't carry as well, though it had a nice, intimate rumble as she ducked her face and muffled her words between their bodies. 

"Weller just blamed her for his stubble growing in grey," Zapata said, her spot good for reading lips without being caught staring. "And Jane is blaming Rich Dotcom," she cringed over the name.

Reade had to draw the line somewhere, and he wasn't going to allow the batshit insanity that was Rich into this conversation. 

"Okay, we're really pushing into rudeness on this topic. Weller is our boss, he and Jane are friendly but not together. They don't talk about their pasts casually. They spend some off-time together and he helps her out with her brother. He is having a baby but don't ask him about that unless he offers. She's dating somebody, but don't bring that up, especially in front of Weller. And Rich Dotcom is a made-up name, obviously. Don't be so gullible."

He nodded, as if he'd actually answered any of their concerns to their satisfaction. 

"This is a test, isn't it? We're supposed to solve it? Like using our own instincts to tell which is the truth and which is a lie," Kincaid asked firmly.

"They're obviously together." Olberman turned to him and crossed her arms, a silent argument beginning.

"They could just be friends with a lot of common ground who are working together to give her little brother a good life. Like Weller is his father figure," Harrison answered her.

"That's sweet," Zapata said. She squared her shoulders and hardened her tone. "It's also weird because Roman is like, twenty-eight. There isn't a case to solve here. You're not being tricked. We just told you literal truth. You don't have to remember any of it, other than to avoid getting too personal with your questions. You might get a chance to talk to Jane, but Weller usually avoids small talk."

"But you did say she is part of a case." Cordova was focused, her mind adding things up in ways they probably didn't want her to complete.

"Not your case, and there are a lot of different three letter agencies involved, so it's above most pay grades to poke around there." Zapata pointed at each of them in turn with the end of her pen. 

"Is Jane CIA?!" Kincaid got excited, and his voice pitched back toward an accent with a hint of twang. 

"God, never mention the CIA to them, any of them," Tasha said with a shudder. "They won't take that okay at all. Never to Jane, and not in Weller's hearing. He will hate you forever."

"There are no brownie points to be had throwing guesses," Reade said firmly. "You know if she was she might not be at liberty to answer. Use your heads. You're at work. I know Quantico likes to make every day a study in observation. Jane and Weller are - distracting. She's not your typical consultant. He's not a typical Assistant Director. But that's just how they are, it's not a measure of your work how much information you can gather skulking the office to see them work."

"A lot of their work together is not something to emulate. It's too informal, but Weller doesn't mind and neither does Jane," Zapata said. "And if she did mind, we'd back her up, but that would never be an issue. No one is being mistreated. If you catch them in a personal moment, just let them have that. Trust me, they'll be interrupted long before one of them wants a save."

"And stop drinking my tea and leaving the bags out on the counter," Reade said suddenly. "I hide them because I want to know I'll have some left when I want another cup."

Zapata cleared her throat and he looked at her with a lot of eyebrow work. "That's actually Jane doing that. She likes your oolong tea. And I don't think you're going to get her to answer for it," she said with a smile. 

If love could deflect bullets like it defeated professional standards of behaviour, Jane Doe was bulletproof. His tea was at the mercy of the whole office. 

The moment of peace was broken by Olberman and Harrison making eye contact and finding a common thread. 

"What if Weller is going to petition for custody of his baby," she said. "He'd need to prove he was the better choice to raise a child. He'd want a family counselor."

"And he'd need references from a professional to show his fitness," Harrison said, his eyes lighting up. "But a wife would be even better. So Jane would have to go with him to show she was serious about helping and then the two of them could raise the baby and help her brother."

The NATs were off, spinning fantasies that made Rich Dotcom seem barely interested in Jane and Weller's fate as a couple. 

Tasha was adamant about using brainpower and brawn with instinct, but she wasn't sure she was going to be able to keep these four from thinking too much and trying to rifle through Weller's office looking for an engagement ring. It was a very impressive display of smart adding up to stupid. And they might find a ring, so there was that scene to picture.

Reade flinched from her elbow and stood up. "We don't have a rotation for you guys this afternoon, but it would be too bad to have you lose physical condition now," he said. "Why don't you hit the gym and keep up with your PT routines?"

He waved them away until they went, a grumbling conversation ongoing as they plodded to exercise anything except their secret romantic hopes. He sank into his chair and sighed gustily. 

"We have to schedule them aggressively to any other floor in the building all the time they are here," he said. 

"I think they're already broken," Tasha said cheerfully. "But a baby would be cute. I could deal with an office baby."

Reade looked at her sternly. "Tasha, I need you with me on this. You look like you're drinking the kool-aid. I don't want anyone to be unhappy, but you know how complicated it is with Jane and Weller."

"I don't need a lecture. I was there for every tattoo case," she said, tipping her head toward the office. "But I think a secret affair complete with baby-making is the least of the things those fools could get from snooping around here. Imagine if they found the massive folder of nude photos of Jane Weller uses instead of looking at her on Patterson's monitors?"

He could feel his face freeze in a disarmed horror. They all had photos of Jane's tattoos. Weller had a hard copy of every photo every taken, every zoom in and invasive angle in portable form for carrying home at night to obsess more thoroughly on the pain and helplessness of the woman he'd taken as his own personal mission. 

Weller's obsessive and deeply unprofessional love was actually the least creepy of all possible interpretations. A mysterious folder of coded tattoos was the stuff of dark wizards in fantasy movies. 

"Now you get it," Zapata said. "If they think Weller and Jane are hooking up, they'll leave it alone. If they think he's trying to eat her soul and have cursed babies with her, they'll try to talk to him. They'll try to rescue her. He'll maul them like a damn bear."

Reade couldn't let Weller speak a word to any of the trainees. Just to be safe, he couldn't let them speak to one another. Frankly, he should be pulling the fire alarm and convincing them the whole building was gutted. 

"We have to make them run laps," he said. "We just can't let them stop running laps."


End file.
